


Worth Getting Heartburn Over

by kakaiescheck



Series: Juke / JATP [2]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series 01, juke cuddles tho, shh they're in julie's bed, that is canon, the boys' last moments, to make up for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28961889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakaiescheck/pseuds/kakaiescheck
Summary: A take on Luke telling Julie about the boys' deaths, while on her bed, in the middle of the night, with only the string lights on. Then they cuddle. Rated for safety, read the author's note for more details!---“I’m so sorry you were alone, and scared, and in pain,” she said, her voice muffled. “All of you. It must’ve been so horrible, my God, I can’t imagine…”“Then don’t,” Luke interrupted. “Please. It sucked, but it’s over. I don’t wanna… traumatize you or anything, because it was pretty traumatizing. But we’re okay now. We’re here now.”
Relationships: Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Series: Juke / JATP [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166840
Comments: 22
Kudos: 151





	Worth Getting Heartburn Over

**Author's Note:**

> Short author's note: I wanted to write about the boys' last moments, but I also wanted Juke cuddles, so I stitched them both together and... prayed for the best? It's not graphic, cuz it's from Luke's POV and he starts getting dizzy and stuff, but I won't be offended if you jump ship or just jump from cute Juke part to cute Juke part. 's fine.
> 
> Longer author's note: It's... interesting, to say the least, to watch characters' deaths on shows as a doctor, and borderline impossible not to wonder. And I usually go like, whatever, and enjoy the show. I will say this, though - it'd be nearly impossible for three healthy, seventeen-year-old boys to die of salmonella so quickly. That is not how Typhoid Fever (and its variants) work hahahaha nor food poisioning, tbh, or most of anything in that context. The things they'd have to eat to kill them that fast... they wouldn't be able to eat the hotdog, I'm telling ya. I went with gasoline ingestion followed by gasoline inhalation (when they cough and double over) for the drama, but even then it's a stretch. They'd have to dip the hotdogs in gasoline a few times to die right there and then. BUT, this is a show about a ghost band, so we're not focusing on the medicine of it. Too much. Anyways. Enjoy!

"I was… I mean, I was just thinking. Wondering. But not, like, in a creepy way! I don't go around wondering about it on a daily basis or anything, just… Look, you can tell me to shut up and I will, but you've never told me – I mean, you _have_ told me, the gist of it, but, like – you've never talked about that day and how it was. To die."

Luke had been steadily and amusedly raising his eyebrows and smiling at Julie's rambling, until she uttered those last two words. He hadn't been expecting that. It was almost two in the morning and they were both in her bed, leaning against the headboard with some pillows, songwriting journals and pens and pencils long forgotten in favor of talking the night away.

"Oh."

She looked ethereal in the soft glow of the string lights she had hung under the top windowsill behind her bed (the only light they dared to leave on at this time of night). Also, for what Julie had claimed was _aesthetic_ , they had untied the light, brown and yellow fabric that hung above them and let it drape around the bed, like a canopy one. Luke wasn't one hundred percent sure that the way she had meant _aesthetic_ was the same meaning he had for the word – maybe it was another slang he had yet to learn –, but all it did to him was… well, set a _mood_. Like they were closed off from the rest of the world. And he liked that.

Well, maybe not so much right now, after that question. It made him feel a bit claustrophobic. He only noticed that he had moved when he felt his fingers slipping away from hers.

"I'm sorry," Julie was quick to say, eyes widening. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Luke stayed silent.

She continued, more nervous now, wriggling her hands together in her lap. "I'm just curious, I guess. With my mom, it was… I mean, when we found out, it was already bad, but when the cancer spread and it got _bad_ bad… She was in so much pain. They gave her many drugs to try to control it and she tried to stay home as long as she could, but…" she shrugged, sadly. "Eventually, Dad couldn't watch it anymore and took her to the hospital so they could give her something stronger."

"Julie…"

"I don't remember much about those days. Dr. Turner says it's a defense mechanism, to forget the worst, which makes sense, I guess. I remember being in the hospital with her, and she looked… relieved. She wasn't in so much pain anymore. And when she went, she looked peaceful. I mean," she chuckled humorlessly, "it's a blur after that, since I was crying so much, but those few minutes before – those moments –, she was okay. And that's what I've been trying to focus on, on the bad days, you know? That she went peacefully." Julie took a deep breath and met his eyes. "I have a feeling that you guys weren't so lucky."

They hadn't been. Thanks for asking.

"I don't know if you guys ever talked about it, at all, and that's fine! But… just in case you _wanna_ talk about it or, I don't know, tell it to someone who wasn't there? I don't know," Julie shook her head. "You don't have to say anything. I'm sorry, I'll shut up. We can watch a movie or something."

The incessant movement of her fingers wrapping and unwrapping around themselves was making Luke hyper and something inside his chest tried to speed up. Almost automatically, he covered her hands with one of his. "No, no, it's… it's fine."

He didn't sound sure, and she could obviously tell. To reassure her, or himself, he let his right fingers slip between her left ones, the cold metal of his rings a contrast to her warm skin.

They were silent for a moment, looking at their hands.

"We haven't talked about it," Luke broke the moment. "We just… have this sort of mutual agreement that it sucked, and how it sucked, and that we get it. We don't have to say anything. They… they _know_."

"I don't," she said softly.

"I'm not sure I want you to."

Luke said that before thinking about how it would sound, which is something that he did more often than he should. He didn't have to look up to know how she took it; he could sense it from the change in the air between them. "No, _no_ , Julie, I didn't mean it like that. Of _course_ I… It's just…" He sighed and mumbled a few incoherent words.

"What was that?"

"I said you're right, okay?" he spoke up (since, you know, he could do that without waking up her family, whilst she had to be careful, although he went right back to a softer tone. It seemed wrong to speak louder). "We weren't so lucky."

Slowly, but confidently, Julie turned her hand to join their palms and relace their fingers, squeezing in reassurance. It helped to ground him there, in 2020, with Julie, in her house, in her room, on her bed, holding her hand as they talked the night away for the second time that week.

Luke gave her hand another squeeze before steeling himself. "It was my idea to get street dogs after the sound check."

She sent him a brief, encouraging smile.

The left corner of his lips twitched and curled up for a moment. "It's ridiculous to think about it now. Bobby didn't go cuz he wanted to hit on this girl who worked there. Said he was vegetarian and some other bullshit."

"He's been a vegetarian ever since I've known him."

Luke blinked as he tried to take in that information. In the end, he decided he couldn't deal with it right now, so he moved on. "Yeah, he wasn't. Anyway. He didn't go with us to get street dogs."

* * *

"That's a new flavor."

"Chill, man. Street dogs haven't killed us yet."

A lot of street food hadn't killed them yet, Luke remembered, and they ate a _lot_ of it. The money they got from the gigs was barely enough for their equipment, and they'd blown a big part of it on the demo – and copies, and T-shirts, and merch in general so people would know their name. He didn't know where they would even be living if not for Bobby's garage turned to studio. So yeah, safe to say they didn't have enough money to eat somewhere that respected basic sanitary laws.

It had worked out so far. The body of a seventeen-year-old could digest most things without a problem, so that was what they had been banking on. Even if the street dog _did_ taste weird – like gas?

Luke hesitated before the next bite. It was straight out of a car, of course it tasted a bit like gasoline. And he was _hungry_. They'd had hamburgers for lunch, sure, but that was it. It had been _hours_ and he had been jumping on a stage for a great portion of it. He needed to eat.

So they did, in spite of the weird flavor.

And then Reggie couldn't take his last bite. Coughing, he said, "I take it back. This is – _cough cough_ – too – I can't."

His voice sounded weird, too, and the last thing they needed was for him to damage it two hours before _the_ show of their lives. But then he kept on coughing and coughing and coughing, and it was like he was choking on something.

"Hey," Luke swallowed his last bite and put a hand on Reggie's back, ignoring the itch in the back of his throat. "Breathe, man."

Alex groaned from his other side and clutched his stomach. "I ate that way too fast."

That was true. Luke was used to gulfing food down, but this time he might have overdone it. His stomach was starting to feel weird, like he had heartburn or something. He was too focused on Reggie, though, to mind his own pain – his friend's face was redder than normal and he was having a hard time catching his breath.

"I'll get you some water, okay?" Luke told him, already getting up.

When he got to his feet, he staggered a bit, unstable, but it wasn't too bad, and Reggie was still coughing, so he forced himself to walk back to the vendor and buy a bottle of water. He came back, and Alex had moved to Reggie's side, a hand rubbing circles on his back, the other holding his own stomach. Luke pushed the coffee table out of his way, knelt in front of them, and opened the water, "Here, man, try to drink a bit."

Reggie tried. He struggled a lot, because he couldn't. Stop. Coughing. At least not for more than a few seconds at a time. It was little sip after little sip.

Luke exchanged a worried glance with Alex, then he noticed the blonde looked... he looked a little paler and greener. "Hey, Alex, maybe you should have some too."

He shook his head. "Too nauseous."

Then he did something that, later, when Luke allowed himself to think back on it, was the start of the finish. Just as Reggie attempted to swallow another gulp, Alex doubled forward, clutching his stomach, and promptly began coughing as well. And was that… was that a bit of blood on the water bottle?

Alex's hat fell on ground in front of Luke and the world spun when he looked down at it. A hit of nausea and vertigo washed through him so intensely that he might have blacked out for a second or two. There was noise in his ears. His left hand was gripping someone's knee.

They were all thinking the same thing: what the fuck _was_ there in those hotdogs?

* * *

Luke squeezed his left hand around his own knee.

"Gasoline?" Julie's voice brought him back to the present. "You can't be serious."

He shrugged, not meeting her eyes. "I don't know what it was, but it tasted like that. I mean, not that I'd know what gasoline tastes like, but just, you know, from the smell you can kinda guess what it'd taste like, and if I had to guess–"

"Yeah, I know."

* * *

The heartburn was getting worse, starting in his stomach and moving up his chest until the back of his throat. This time, he couldn't hold back the coughs and a couple escaped. Reggie was… _still_ fucking coughing, leaning over the armrest of the couch so he wouldn't do it right on their faces. Alex was still doubled over, trying to catch his breath.

This wasn't normal. Luke had had food poisoning before, and it had _sucked_ , but it had never been this painful. It hadn't made him cough his lungs out. It hadn't made it hard to breathe.

He waited a couple of seconds until the world wasn't spinning so much anymore and tried to get to his feet. It took a couple of tries, and then there were hands on his arms helping him. A woman was in front of him, talking to him, but he couldn't make out a single word she was saying – it was all static noise. It was hard to focus on her face as well.

He pushed away from her.

Luke thinks he said something about his friends and calling an ambulance, but, again, he couldn't even hear himself. The heartburn was getting worse. There were too many people around. His friends… his _friends_ , they had been _right there_ , _where were they, where_ –

_There._

How had he gotten so far from them, though? He could barely walk back to the couch, but he had to reach them, because his vision was blurred, but Reggie was still coughing and his face looked redder than he had ever seen it, and Alex, it looked like he had thrown up, and that was _definitely_ blood, and _whoa_ , okay, he was on the ground.

Then Luke noticed that he was on the ground as well, although he hadn't felt the impact. People were talking to him, crowding him, and he couldn't _breathe_ , and now he was coughing too, every spasm shooting a flash a pain from his stomach to his chest.

"… the ambulance for you, son. It's gonna be okay. Just stay with us."

He tried to crawl to Alex, who was closer, but they wouldn't let him. He could only make out when they put Reggie on the ground as well.

* * *

"And I couldn't get to them," his hand was probably cutting off the circulation in Julie's. "And I know those people were just trying to help, but it felt like… It was too crowded. I couldn't breathe. Too many people talking, and they didn't get out of the way for me to at least see the guys."

Luke chanced a glance in her direction and noticed the tears in her eyes. He backtracked immediately. "Hey, no, I didn't mean to upset you. I'll stop."

"No, Luke, _God_ , this is… That must've been so scary."

He grimaced. "Not exactly a good bedtime story. We should probably watch a movie. I don't wanna make you feel bad." _I don't wanna put those images in your head. They don't get out_.

"Only if you want to. But I promise… I can handle whatever it is. You shouldn't have to carry this alone."

"I don't carry it alone."

Julie gave him a look that he understood perfectly. Her eyes were so dark in the faint string light, shining like a million diamonds because of the tears, and he wished he didn't find it so beautiful. He never wanted to make her cry.

* * *

Luke wasn't sure how he knew it. He didn't know if it was a feeling that made him pay attention or if he picked up on it on his own. It was like when you go to a concert and get used to the noise, only to get in the car for the drive home and notice that _oh_ , _it was really loud out there and now it's not anymore_. So he didn't know how long it'd been, but he knew that Reggie wasn't coughing anymore.

His movements were slow, too slow, as he tried to turn on his side and search for his friend among the many legs and bodies. Turning on his side made things worse. The burn climbed up his chest and set his throat in flames. When he coughed again, he saw droplets of blood splashing on the ground in front of him.

"Oh, my God."

Then the noise increased. People were anxious, panicked, but it wasn't at him coughing up blood. Alex was still groaning more to his right. That meant that the ruckus was around Reggie.

Luke's mind tried to go into a frenzy, but his thoughts were too slow. Time was too fluid. He couldn't connect the facts in his mind to come up with a rational line of thought. Everything was _stomach burns, chest burns, throat burns, too nauseous, head hurts, hard to breathe, room is spinning_.

Looking back on it, Luke knew he had been swimming in and out of consciousness by then, trying to piece together what was happening around him. He had a bad feeling, really bad feeling, because Reggie wasn't coughing anymore, even though the whole reason he was worried was because he had been coughing too much, but now it could only mean one thing and that thing couldn't be true.

_What was taking the ambulance so long?_

Or maybe it didn't take long at all, because every second felt like an eternity at the same time that his mind skipped several seconds from time to time.

Then there were hands on him, turning him on his back, and he heard himself groan in pain.

Then the hands left him as another ruckus started, this time louder.

He made out people being pushed away from the center of it as what he guessed was the paramedics coming through. It was on Alex's side now. He wasn't coughing anymore either, and this time Luke really didn't know when he'd stopped. How long had it been?

"Can you tell me your name?"

He heard it, but didn't process it until the person repeated it, like, four times.

"Luke." His voice sounded strange, scratched and weak, like that time he'd tried to get that rock growl and rasp right and ended up without his voice for a week.

"Okay, Luke, I need you to focus on me, can you do that?"

A hand turned his head from where it had been lying on its side, trying to catch a glimpse of his friends, so now he was staring at the night sky, a face hovering above him.

"Reggie was– coughing– pretty bad," he tried to say, coughing just as bad.

"I know." He finally recognized the voice as female. "There are people with your friends. I need to take care of you now."

But there was a voice counting, and then that weird feeling again, that a noise had stopped, and he only recognized it when it restarted: the sound of someone moving rhythmically. A red light lit up in the back of his head, but, again, he couldn't connect the dots. All he knew was that it was bad.

He was pushed back to the ground, or maybe he fell from the pain that trying to get up caused. He coughed up more blood, and this time he couldn't seem to stop.

"– are on their way, but you used the only intubation kit already, George, I can't–"

 _Pain_. So. Much. Fucking. Pain.

He was turned on his left side now, away from the others, and he wanted to protest. He wanted to scream. He wanted to go to them. He wanted the pain to _stop_ so he could _breathe_ , and _fucking hell_ , why couldn't he _breathe_? He could feel himself going through the mechanical motions of inhaling and exhaling and he felt the air burning as it got in and out of his chest, but it might as well have been fire, because he was suffocating.

The last thing he remembered before floating out of consciousness for the last time was the pain, the burn, and the agony of not breathing. Then everything stood still for a moment, the world blurred and muffled around him. Then he didn't feel anything anymore.

* * *

Luke didn't dare look up. He had pulled his hand from hers at some point, nervously fidgeting. He didn't exactly feel pain anymore (except for the jolts) because he was a ghost and technically wasn't so corporeal to begin with, but his body remembered all too well.

He heard his name being called in a sweet, angelic voice. And then Julie tackled him, arms around his neck and shoulders as she threw her whole body at him, making him stumble and brace himself with a hand on the mattress as the other automatically rested on her waist. Carefully, he rearranged them so he could lean against the headboard again and pull her into his chest.

"I'm so sorry you were alone, and scared, and in pain," she said, her voice muffled. "All of you. It must've been so horrible, my God, I can't imagine…"

"Then don't," Luke interrupted. "Please. It sucked, but it's over. I don't wanna… traumatize you or anything, because it was pretty traumatizing. But we're okay now. We're here now."

Julie squeezed him tighter at that and he reciprocated. Even after weeks, he still didn't take for granted the fact that he could touch her. He enjoyed every time he reached out and made contact, holding her hand, flicking her hair because he couldn't help it, or simply resting an elbow on her shoulder during practice.

"I'm still sorry," she muttered.

"Thank you," because he didn't know what else to say.

Her hair was a frizzy mess – after school, band practice, homework, dinner, more homework, some songwriting, more songwriting, and then talking. She had halfheartedly tied it away from her face in a messy, low bun hours ago, and it was extremely close to coming loose. Half of it was loose already, framing her face. Luke tried his best to bury his nose in it without being too obvious about the fact that he was inhaling its scent.

He also had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from dropping a kiss on top of her curls, but he tried not to dwell on that.

Then Julie yawned and he couldn't help the fond grin that took over his face. "You should go to sleep."

"'m not tired."

"Mm-hm," he watched as she subtly cuddled into his chest.

"I'm not."

"Whatever you say, Julie."

Luke closed his eyes for a moment and focused on the _touch_. Her head had moved from his shoulder to his chest, forehead against where his neck met his shoulder and hair tickling his exposed arm. One of her hands had retracted back to her side while the other had slipped from the hug and now rested on the strap of his sleeveless tee. Her legs were tucked under her, but her knees touched his thigh. He had one arm completely around her back, hand on her waist, and the other on her shoulder blade, brushing the tips of her hair.

_One hand behind her knees and you could pull her into your lap._

But he wasn't about to do that. He really wanted to, but he couldn't. It was way too forward.

Instead, he touched his mouth to her temple, "Do you wanna watch a movie, then? Your pick."

To her credit, she did her best to look much more awake than she was. Lamenting the loss of her touch, Luke watched her get up to get her laptop from the couch, then grab her earbuds from the desk. She almost lost her balance as she navigated the fabric framing the mattress, but in the end managed to sit next to him against the headboard and find something for them to watch.

" _To All the Boys I've Loved Before_?"

"Shut up. It's cute and ridiculous, and you're watching it with me."

"Sure thing, boss."

It didn't take long. By the time the main girl kiss-attacked the guy with the swept-up brown hair in the field track, Julie's head had completely slipped from his shoulder and chest to his stomach, earbud long forgotten. She hadn't moved in a while, so he risked taking her hair out of the elastic band, since it was doing next to thing at this point, and brushed it away from her face.

He ended up staying there and watching the whole movie, distractedly playing with her hair. He pretended to be cool about it – and, if anybody asked, he _was_ –, but when her arm moved to drape over his abdomen and she snuggled closer… well, his hands didn't stop shaking for hours.

He only moved when Julie turned to the other side and buried her face in her actual pillow. By then, he had finished the movie and was trying to understand better that whole _Netflix_ website. It was four in the morning.

As quietly as he could, he closed her laptop and placed it on the bedside table, earbuds on top of it. Then he turned off the string lights, ready to leave their improvised dossel bed oasis. One last glance back at her, though, and he felt bad about leaving without pulling her duvet over her. Problem was that she was sleeping on _top_ of it and he didn't like any ideas he came up with to go about it.

It was four in the morning, though. Luke didn't need sleep, true, but there was something about that time of night – decisions were less thought-through, everything seemed possible. So he found himself standing beside the bed, inside the fabric tent, leaning down to pick her up, one arm under her knees and one under her shoulders. She mumbled in her sleep and cuddled up to him, _again_ , thankfully not waking up. Carefully, he pushed the duvet away with his foot enough to place her back down.

"Wha…?"

"Shh, it's okay," he whispered, maneuvering her legs under the covers before pulling it up to her chin. "It's Saturday. Sleep in."

She didn't answer, getting comfortable instead. It was the cutest thing. He didn't know how long he stood there, like a total creep – _seriously, that's so creepy, dude, stop_ – until he managed to tear himself away. When he poofed back to the studio, Reggie and Alex were playing a rather violent game of Blackjack. It was a contrast to the last images of them he'd had in his head as he'd recounted their story a few hours back.

"That does _not_ add up to twenty, Reggie – oh, hey, man – Count it again."

Instead of counting his cards again, Reggie grinned at Luke suggestively. "Where were you so late, young man? Did the night get away from you two?"

Luke felt… well, not exactly _warmth_ , but the ghost equivalent of it rising to his cheeks. "Just songwriting."

Alex snorted. "Must've written an entire album, then."

"Fuck off," Luke grumbled, taking a seat around the coffee table with them. "And that's nineteen, Reggie. Sorry. The dealer won."

His fake grumpy attitude fooled none of his friends, which was fine. They all knew anyway. He was past the point of denying it and more like working towards getting the courage to do something about it – whether it would be tell her to go live her life with someone _alive_ or to hold her and never let her go, he wasn't sure yet. In any case, his lovesick smile was plastered on his face for them to see and tease, and _this_ – playing cards with his best friends because it was so late that no clubs were open and they couldn't rehearse either, so they had to wait for Julie to wake up –, this was worth all the heartburn he'd had to go through twenty-five years ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't tell me Julie didn't love the To All the Boys series and relate to Lara Jean, mm-kay? Dead mom, cute guys. It's enough. Peace out.


End file.
